


Flowers between Bare Ribs

by rainbowflavouredfabulous



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: Angst, Corpses, Death, F/M, It's beginning to look a lot like angstmas, Love Confessions, Not Canon Compliant, The author apologies for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 00:30:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8945428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowflavouredfabulous/pseuds/rainbowflavouredfabulous
Summary: "Lord Melbourne!" Albert raised his voice. He stopped walking but could not bring himself to turn. "Say it. Say it now in these four walls where it doesn't matter," he said thickly, failing to push back tears. “Say it to her, whilst you can.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in about fifteen minutes but I delayed it until after So Take My Hand... was published and I decided to post it then I spent a good hour trying to find the whole episode of Drunk History with Lin-Manuel Miranda which wasn't successful but hey, it's here
> 
> Shoutout to my beta Soph
> 
> This song didn't inspire the fic but it certainly goes: [Without You by Junip](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=lHzXF4IAHY8)

Lord Melbourne entered Westminster Hall. It was late; time closer to the reappearance of the sun than it was to the bold reign of the moon. As he expected, there was no one else there, apart from the guards, but they weren't there to mourn. The night and world outside was cold and Melbourne had run out of tears to cry; his eyes stubbornly bloodshot and drooping from lack of sleep. How could he rest when Victoria laid there, dead and still immortally beautiful. He walked down the aisle to the coffin, the guards taking hardly any notice of their Prime Minister leaving his condolences with their late Queen. He opened his coat and took out a fragile orchid, which he had tucked away and protected from the frigid winds of London. He remembered giving Victoria her first orchid, a part of a silent language steeped in hidden meanings that she understood immediately. 

He found she was uncovered, dressed as if she was ready to meet her ministers. He turned it between his fingers for a few moments, then nestled the orchid between her arm and side; his last flower and gift to the girl who had given him everything. He couldn't feel any tears swell in his eyes, a Godsend; his face was numb in grief. The slow creak of a door reverberated throughout the hall and Melbourne stood back, ready to take his leave of her one last time. 

"Lord Melbourne!" A man's soft and hushed words carried powerfully through the room to Melbourne and the lord turned round. Prince Albert walked towards him, the royal’s face blotchy and red with unshed tears. "What are you doing here so late?" 

Melbourne felt tempted to ask the same of the Prince but he had no energy left for such trivialities. "I came to leave my respects. Far more difficult to do so when surrounded by others." He paused. “I came to spend some time and say goodbye.” 

By this point, Albert had joined him, an uneasy alliance between the two. "What is it you have left?" He asked the Prime Minister. 

"An orchid. They were one of her favourites. I always gave her flowers." Melbourne sighed wistfully. 

"Victoria was clever. I'm quite sure she knew the meaning." An awkward silence descended upon the two grieving men until Albert broke it. "Did you know she loved you?" he uttered. 

Out of all the conversations Melbourne could have dreamed of occurring in that moment, this wasn't one of them. He searched for the right words, but he couldn't deny it. "I knew." He said simply before stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. 

Albert chuckled hollowly to himself before replying, "She defended you, you know? In the forest, when Dash was injured. I told her to marry you instead and she was furious. How I wish I could see her furious once more." 

Melbourne didn't now what else to say so he told the truth, no matter how many times he said that the truth was overrated. 

"She proposed to me. In a way.” There was silence in response from Albert. 

"After His Royal Highness King Leopold came England, she visited me at Brocket Hall. A Queen should never do that but of course, Victoria never paid attention to society’s conventions. She found me with the rooks in the gardens and told me that I was the only the companion she desired and could ever want." 

Albert thawed out from his stupor. "Then how is it that I married her?" 

Melbourne could feel tears pricking at the back of his eyes but refused to let them drop. 

"I rejected her, said I had no use for her heart." 

Albert scoffed at that notion. "Well, Prime Minister. I think it's safe to say we all know that's not the truth," the Prince paused for a moment before speaking again. 

"Did she know?" 

Melbourne couldn't bear to look at Albert anymore and fixed his eyes upon the orchid. "Before you and your brother came to England, she held a ball. Victoria loves... loved balls. She was Elizabeth, I was Leicester. Again, the meaning wasn't lost on her and I told her their story, said that they couldn't marry, no matter their inclinations towards each other. She understood straightaway, of course. And then, before your honeymoon, she found me. She told me she would never forget what I had said when I rejected her; I told her that when she would give her heart, it would be without hesitation. She said I was almost right about that." A lone tear dropped down Melbourne's cheek but he continued. 

"So we said our goodbyes. She had you now. She didn't need an old Prime Minister, not as her companion, even less so her husband." His voice cracked. "I missed her then; I miss her now." 

Albert was openly crying, trying to set his trembling mouth. "I miss her too. Vicky should have her mother." 

"Vicky?" 

The Prince’s lips curled into a brief, shaking smile before his face fell again. "Before she died, we decided to call our daughter Victoria. A strong woman, like her mother." He sniffed before saying quietly, "I loved her and will miss her very much." 

Melbourne could feel more tears threaten to escape. He needed to leave. "Excuse me, your Royal Highness, but I have matters to return to." He turned round and strode up the walkway towards the door, tears blurring the details of the Hall until they were just wet streaks of paint-like colour. 

"Lord Melbourne!" Albert raised his voice. He stopped walking but could not bring himself to turn. "Say it. Say it now in these four walls where it doesn't matter," he said thickly, failing to push back tears. “Say it to her, whilst you can.” 

Melbourne swallowed and looked behind him, his Queen lying dead from the most normal of things, childbirth. He clenched his fists nervously and in a quieter voice, proclaimed three special words to Victoria, his almost companion. "I loved her." 

He walks forward and departs from Westminster Hall. He'll never return back to London once his frail ministry collapses - the Tories enjoy finding a weakness and will surely using Victoria's death to oust her favourite from power. He'll retire to Brocket Hall, write books when he should be asleep, down his whiskey to numb the dull pain when he is awake. He'll close down all the glasshouses, apart from the one he opened most recently. He'll maintain a small corner of flowers where he'll left Victoria live. He'll grow orchids until the day he reunites with her, his Victoria.

**Author's Note:**

> I promise my next fics will be far happier, I have two that are part of a series coming up and of course the next chapter of So Take My Hand...
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr!](lostlibraryofalex.tumblr.com)


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